Mindtricks
by rachaelx37
Summary: Rachael is your average, everyday twenty-four year old. Sarcastic, crass and very interested in the unknown. She has spent a good portion of her life - well, when she's not eating, sleeping, or procrastinating - trying to find the answer to our greatest question; are we alone? Paranormal? Extraterrestrial? In the meantime, she is busy working, riding and taking care of her massi


**_Prologue_**

Growing up, I've always believed in the paranormal. Trying to live by the standard that we are the only beings in this universe never settled with me. When I was younger, a few of my friends and I made our own Ouija boards, and on several occasions, these said boards were put to use. They always worked, scaring the living hell out of us sometimes. Strange noises, scratching sounds when we called each other, phones pushed from our hands, EVP's, and objects being tossed at us were an everyday commodity. It seemed that every time we used one, more and more activity would ensue. I've seen faces, figures, heard people talking when no one was there and even had a few terrifying poltergeists. Ever since then, I knew we weren't alone.

As the years passed, I found myself outside more and more. Night time was my favorite. I'd spend hours sitting on my deck, listening to music and watching the stars. Stargazing became my halftime. No matter what happened during the day, I knew that once I got out on my deck, the universe would give me something to look at. I'd see lights in the sky. Not the Hollywood-overdone-triangular-shaped-lights, no. There was just a single, white light every now and then. It looked exactly like a star, but it would slowly cascade across the sky. You could tell it was close, just by the effect it gave off. If I waved or talked to it, believe it or not, it would sometimes give me a sign of acknowledgement. Sometimes the lights grew in strength, sometimes they disappeared. Sometimes they just stayed their course, not fading or faulting, leaving me with a feeling of idiocy knowing I just waved at a satellite.

Whatever the case, a feeling of unknown always crept over me when I tried to sleep. Thinking about everything I've seen, everything I've done. I couldn't put my finger on it. I'm just waiting for the day my questions can be answered. Or die in puzzlement, whichever comes first.

 **Chapter One:**

Pulling my knit hat down, I brush the snowflakes from my nose. It can't be more than twenty degrees out and me and my semi-retarded dog are trudging our way to the dog park. We are waiting to meet one of my friends here to have a little doggie play date. Having a highly aggressive breed causes me to have to socialize him more frequently, even in the dead of winter. A friendly stroll through Petsmark wasn't going to cut it today. The snow that's continuously falling is just the beginning of a long and hazardous blizzard. A huge nor'easter is making its way down to us. Not unusual at all for this time of year, but thanks to 'global climate change' – more effective in conversation than 'global warming' – this just so happens to be the fourth one in three months. Joy.

A sneeze erupts from me and he takes this chance to drag me heavily through the snow. There's about two feet of this freezing, fluffy goodness and watching him hop around like a reindeer was all the reward I needed for trekking my ass all the way out here. We hop our way to the gate through this swirling vortex of hell and I pray that it isn't too frozen over. To my surprise, the lock lifts without a struggle and the gate swings out to meet me. I unhook his leash and let him barrel and fall around the fenced-in area. Closing the gate behind me, I swing his leash over my neck and pull my gloves further onto my hands. The wind nips at my bare skin and I consider the possibility of losing some outer extremities in this little adventure.

The scenery is absolutely beautiful this time of year. The trees are all frozen over with little puffy flakes falling around them. And every single pine tree is a reminder of Christmas. Most of the animals are either hibernating in a secluded stump or doing their very best at surviving this barren wasteland.

I curse under my breath as he comes flying at me with a stupid happy grin on his face, barely missing me as he tries knocking me over. "Bear!" I cry as he hooks around again with his tongue flopping about. He fakes to the left and starts his little dance of running and hopping all the way down the fenceline. I hear him let out a string of barks and catch him hop his way back to me. Through the thick snowfall, my eyes catch a shadow forming behind him. Bear picks up speed and I watch as a stark white dog comes flying out from behind him. Bear stops and rears up as the other dog ducks down and snaps at his front paws. Playful growls and barks erupt as they tackle each other and grab at free tails. Bear has a slight genetic flaw which causes his tail to curl around twice as apposed to the one spiral his breed description called for. It is still cute as hell and the devil to hang onto.

"Hey!" I hear someone yell out. I spin around as gracefully as I can in my boots and snow pants to find Cassie doing her best to hold onto Lilly's leash. I scramble to the gate and open it for her. Lilly hops in and starts spinning in circles around us. "Hold still you stupid dog." Cassie mumbles as she unlatches the leash. She looks up as Lilly takes off towards Bear. "Who's that?" She asks as we make our way into the park towards them.

"I have no idea. I didn't even know he was here until I saw him chasing Bear from down there." I point to the back of the park as the snow continues to dance around.

"Weird," she says as she walks closer. "Hi baby!" She shrieks in her puppy-voice and Bear comes running over to her. His black mask of a face, now covered in a snowy residue, slams into her legs and he proceeds to lean all of his weight on her. She stumbles back and catches herself as she reaches down and pets him. "I've missed you." Seeing her owner giving attention to another dog, Lilly runs over and jumps onto the both of them. I watch as Cassie is being taken down by too much love and I can't help the laugh that stifles up through me.

I feel something bump into my hand and I look to my right and see the other dog. His pink tongue is hanging out of the side of his mouth as he pants and tries to recover from the recent excitement. He looks up at me with his dark eyes and nose, a striking contrasted to his white complexion. I reach my hand down and pet him on his blocky head. He closes his eyes in a sweet bliss and I feel the snow disperse as he plops his tush down right beside me. Body moving in a fast pace to his pants, I peer down to his neck looking for any collar. I scruff about to no avail and exchange a look with Cassie. "He doesn't have a collar." I say as his eyes barely open in acknowledgement.

"Sometimes they take their collars off so they don't get stuck on anything. I highly doubt any Rangers are going to stop by and ask for proof of their records." She makes her way over to me, careful not to get knocked over by the rambunctious playing of my bear of and Akita and her crazy aerodynamic German Shepherd/Aussie/Lab mix. I take a quick look around.

"I don't see anyone else though. I've never known of anyone to just leave their dog here." She shrugs to me.

"They're probably in the bathroom over there." The building is barely visible just beyond the fence. She reaches down to pet the dog and he slowly closes his mouth. His eyes never left hers as she generously rubs his head. "Look at you," she whispers, "All alone out here. But you have friends now." The black tips of his ears flick back and forth as he listens to the rumbles and barks of our two idiots in the distance. The two of them jump and run over to us as we call out in objection. They crash into me and the other dog and the three of them take of in a playful rage. Lying on my back and getting laughed at by Cassie, I take a moment to study my pup's white friend. His massive size is now visible within the three. Bear is above average for his breed, standing at thirty inches and weighing in at a hefty one hundred and fifty-three pounds. His plethora of muscle is what really gives him the appearance of being aggressive, when in reality he's the largest teddy bear on the face of the planet. But this other dog was almost comparable in size. His long winter coat shines in the very faint light that we have and the black tips lining his ears, paws and tail whip around as he out races the two.

A howl of excitement ebbs up from him and a shiver snakes through my spine. Lilly skids to a halt and barks once in alarm. Bear, oblivious to what just occurred, continues pawing and jumping at Whitey. Cassie is finally able to pull me up in between her outbursts and a smile stretches across my face. "I wish I could have gotten that on camera!" She shrieks. I brush the snow off of me and shove my blonde hair back behind my knit hat. This is the one time I secretly thanked my mom for making me wear my snow pants.

"That was fun." I murmur.

We spend a little over twenty minutes watching the three toss and tumble themselves around the park. Every so often one of them would come over and inspect us as if to see if we were still paying attention. A few pets and pats ensue shortly after and Cassie and I exchange a knowing look. The strands of hair that escape her hood are little frozen crystals now. Her nose and cheeks are dry and irritated from the cold, giving them that well known rosiness we've come accustomed to in winter. "I'm freezing my tits off over here, I think it's time we got going." She nods her head in agreement and I catch up with Bear to reattach his leash. A rumbling whimper comes from behind me and I see Whitey sitting with his tail wagging. The expression on his face is one of sadness and one I see almost everyday from Bear when I leave for work. My heart starts to melt as he cocks his head at me. "Aw, sorry bud. Not all of us are made for cold weather." I let a small smile slip from my face as I pat his head goodbye. He whimpers and follows us all the way to the gate. Bear has a hard time leaving him and is hell to bring around the fence.

As we make our way back to the parking lot, I have a peek behind us to see if anyone is coming for him. All I see is the outline of him standing on his hind legs as he stretches up the fence to see us off, tail wagging and all. I have a very soft spot for animals and when they show emotion, it really beats away at me. Bear is all piss and vinegar in the car, circling around and around looking for his friends. The weather seems to pick up and I struggle to remove our car from the snowy depths of hell that is consuming us.

As we make the journey down the gooseneck driveway to the road, I am caught off guard by a stray deer running in front of me. Slamming on my breaks, I do my best to catch Bear as he falls over and into the front seat. I take a moment to laugh as the image of him upside down with his feet squirming in midair reappears in my mind. We struggle as he tries to get back up from the floor and the language barrier is starting to nag on me. "Stop moving!" I shout as I grab his collar and proceed to pull my beast up. I sit him down in the front seat and watch as the deer tears down the wilderness to the forested area across the parkway. Cassie's horn rips me from my thoughts and I flash my lights to let her know I'm okay.

The normal eight minute drive takes nearly twenty two as we slug down the roads at a mind numbingly slow eleven miles an hour. Bear all but drags me inside the quaint little three bedroom, two bath townhouse. Giving the front door a good slam, I shake out of my winter jacket and slip my gloves off. I place those and his leash around the protruding knob on our stairs. My mother and stepfather are both still at work, leaving me alone on the premises. Bear bolts up the stairs and I hear the stampede of him and our feline companion. Spock is your atypical tuxedo cat. He has half of a black goatee on his chin with his white markings making an obscene gesture of male genitalia on his face. He is seventy-five percent black and twenty-five percent white, almost the perfect ratio. Several black spots decorate his neck and legs giving him a wild appearance, and it compliments his personality to a T. Known to climb walls, curtains, lamp shades, and aimlessly tear through the house at ungodly hours, Spock adds the much needed comedic relief to our lives. His little meows of agitation only made Bear even more excited.

I drag myself to the fridge and pull out a microwavable meal. I seem to be living off of these now. I never have the motivation to actually cook myself a meal, and with my mom working again, no one is usually home to make dinner. We are living in the era of "fend for yourself" dinners.

 **It's unusually quiet this** evening. Bear and Spock are nice and settled before my parents come home, and the fast pace of hockey-life mellows to a slow walk by nine o'clock. I enjoy nights like these, especially after picking up more hours at work. It makes me appreciate my free time. I'm more often than not ass deep in trying to figure out schedules for the following week in my department or trying to calm a riot between two Asian cooks involving flaming woks and knives, so sitting back and relaxing is definitely on the top of my list now.

The hot chocolate that I could snort is becoming cold, and I resettle myself on the couch as I try to encourage my body to head downstairs to my room. Downing my chocolaty goodness, I grab my laptop and charger and plug myself in on my bed. My room is a sports fan's dream. Two jerseys of my favorite goaltender are hanging on my wall surrounded by newspaper snippets of the woes and blows of being a Buffalo fan. Right above my bed is a giant picture of a grey wolf, and pictures I ripped out of a book and calendar decorate the remaining wall around it. My entire room is full of football and hockey players, and I have to say, I'm quite proud of it. The final touches are my horse show ribbons I have strung up on a rope that dangle to the picture frame, and the multicolored Christmas lights I have illuminating every corner of my residence.

My bed is placed comfortably on the floor and I cozy myself into my pillows. Facebook, YouTube and music consume quite a few hours before the annoying pitch of Spock's meows sting at my ears. "Cat!" I yell. He starts pawing at the bottom of my door and I see his little feet poke through, shaking the thing like it's possessed. I place my laptop to the side of me and stride to the frame. He meows once as I open it and rubs his side on the doorway as he scampers in. He curls up right next to me as I close my laptop and become the big spoon.

We lay like this for awhile, petting and almost fading into sleep. Just as I have drifted into a small dream, the loud shaking of my door jolts me upright. Heart pounding, I scream out the only thing I can. "Cat!" He looks up at me like I'm crazy and runs out of my room as soon as I swing the door open. "Asshole." I murmur under my breath and return to my bed as I begin staring at the ceiling. This overwhelming feeling of anxiety is starting to fill me. I can't place it. Spock wanting out has never affected me like this. I roll over and cuddle into my blankets. I've always had issues with finding sleep and it seems like most nights I have to fight to win it over. Tonight seems no different and I prepare myself for the battle that lay ahead.

 **My eyes open and** it takes my brain a few moments to register my surroundings. Waking up from a deep sleep always fogs my senses. The wall directly in front of me regains its white pigment and I blink to make sure it stays. Out of nowhere, my senses unhinge. I first notice the smell. My nostrils fill with the erotic sent of cinnamon and roses. Such a weird combination that I never imagined would be coming from my room. The hair on my neck slowly rises as the feeling of being watched settles into my mind and stomach. A shiver stifles through me as my bowels twist and my breath catches in my lungs. I feel the anxiety driven tension tighten within my body. Stupidity and curiosity take hold and I slowly turn on my bed to face my room. Just like a few moments before, my brain doesn't register what I see. Nor do I want it to.

There he is, just sitting in my windowsill. My senses are struggling with adrenaline and it's becoming difficult to see. He's crouching on the wooden ledge before my window, one hand between his legs, the other draped over his thigh. His long torso is chiseled riotously. Red and white looks to be painted in stripes across his body, accenting his curves and giving this man a unique definition. His eyes are like two black orbs trying to sway me in. He has no pupils, nor any irises. Just pure blackness. His angular, long face is shaped by his nose. A little button nose, wrinkled and creased by the expression he is giving me. His thick lips are sneered back in a hiss. Pointed teeth line his mouth, looking more primal and Neanderthal than his clothing. More paint covers his face, all smeared and slipping down his cheeks. His dark brown hair seems greasy and stuck together, all matted across his forehead. It trails down well below his ears and just inches above his shoulders. Parted down the middle, the brown reflects the streetlight shinning in. He is wearing what appears to be a thick leather belt with a breechcloth that hugs loosely around his hips. His almost naked body seethes as another animalistic hiss escapes him.

I quite literally piss my pants. There really is no other way to describe my reaction. He is so malicious looking, so deadly. I can't retrieve my eyes from his. I feel more than see his tension cease as the breath I've been holding finally slips out, slowly, as I make sure a squeal doesn't erupt. I can't tell if he's real or not, if this is a night terror or reality, and I don't want to do anything to set either off. His mouth closes and he studies me as my lungs fill. His black eyes seem complex, not only in their design, but in what the hold. Mixed emotions swirl in them, unseen by the darkness. Utmost was curiosity; curiosity of me.

I can feel him taking in my presence. A tickling sensation coats the very tips of my skin, almost numbing me. In this enthralling indulgence, I watch as his eyes slowly close for three long heartbeats. When they reopen, I am taken aback by the color. A vivid, almost neon green greats me. It's as if the light of the moon is shinning right through them, watching my every breath. His whole demeanor seems to change with this. It's as if the blackness holds only tension and destructive primal tendencies, and with it gone, a whole new being sits before me. He adjusts himself so he's facing me and leaning back on my window. My body, still unable to move, tenses at his sudden motion and the realization of being in reality washes over me. I see his face twitch in the darkness and he creases his lips. He closes his eyes once more and takes a deep breath. The air hisses through his nose as his eyes reopen, and that god damned green swirls into existence around me.

His eyes slowly graze across my room. He pauses at my pictures and posters, reading them, studying them. His gaze lands on my television at the other end of the room. A snort escapes him as a quirk peeks at his lips. My heart is pounding. My extremities become weak and I think my heart is going to explode right through my bouncing chest. His green eyes stir as he studies my fear. It seems to feed him in a way I'm not accustomed to, rising the darkness between us. He cocks his head away from the window and over to his other shoulder while he snuggles his body closer together. He seems incredibly relaxed, way more than I am. A soft smile enlightens his features and he takes a deep breath. "You need to sleep." There it is. His musical voice and the stark features of his language sing through me. Every vowel is spoken properly, and I try to pinpoint the dialect and pick Southern European. His words dance within me as emotions are forcibly stirred up. Fear is the most prominent. Sleep? Now? How could I possibly achieve something like that anymore knowing I may wake to something like this?

I watch as he sits forward, both feet dangling off the window ledge. He rests both of his elbows on his thighs, focusing on me. A malevolent smile begins stretching over his face, and I become immobilized as I see his pupils grow to engulf the heavenly green. Blackness is beginning to stare back at me, and I stifle the scream that is scratching at the back of my throat. His pointed teeth sneer back as a low, animal-like growl escapes him. A yelp ripples in me as a large, black cloud of mist engulfs him and bursts into existence.

And just like that, he is gone.

My mouth, open and gulping in air like a whale, starts moving to make words. Nothing in the English dictionary comes from them. Hyperventilating, I reach up and cup my mouth. Tears start making their way along the curves of my face and a long and loud cry erupts as I try to settle myself.

My head is turning left and right as I recall this incident and my sobs become clearer, cutting through the darkness. Nothing is making sense. What was this? An alien? A demon? A ghost? Or had I just snapped and become asylum bound? The later seems the likeliest. Throughout all of this, my racing thoughts and fears, that numbing tickling sensation starts to cascade over me again. Slowly, goosebumps appear over my body. It's the strangest thing, seeing how I am not the slightest bit cold. They are warm goosebumps, filling me with pulses of relaxation. I blink as I feel my heart begin to settle. My racing pulse dies down and I regain control of my hands, who were before shaking violently on my face. I release my mouth and bring them down in soft fists to my heavy chest. I take a deep breath as I feel all of my tension escape me in an unexpected exhale of contentment.

Another breath comes, making my eye lids heavy and dreary. Sleep. It's beckoning me, reaching out with its comforting arms trying to cradle me. I'm so angry with myself. How can I possibly sleep right now? Or ever again? But with every breath, my thoughts become more distant. I'm mentally reaching out for them, trying to fight this sleepiness. Every time I'm close to grasping them, a heavier sensation pulls me back. Just out of reach, my valiant effort ends. Sleep has won. And you can damn well bet I'll be having a little chat with it in the morning.


End file.
